Incomplete Without You
by Wanderlust12
Summary: The only thing that mattered anymore was Her. And her, He could never have. Told from Draco's point of view through the seven years. Will be a two chapter story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but in many ways my life is linked to the books. Thank you JKR!**

1991:

He crashed into her, spilling his half eaten ice cream onto her in the process. He apologized instantly and looked at the little girl with her wild hair staring in shock at him. He got up at the same instant his mother appeared beside him. "Draco, are you alright?" she had asked before turning to look at the other family. "I see my son has spoilt your dress, here." She has cast a cleaning charm and smiled politely as they had looked on in shock. Avoiding anymore interaction, she had held Draco's arm and left Diagon Alley. The mistake he had done was to repeat the incident in front of Father, who hadn't taken it well that a Malfoy had apologized to a muggle. That night, Draco had been tutored on how to treat muggles and muggleborns. He tried since then to follow whatever his father said even though it seemed wrong.

He noticed the bushy haired girl again at the platform. The main reason for his interest in her was the way she and her parents were dressed. They stood out, from the rest of the crowd and they seemed to be interested in a surprised sort of way at everything around them. He dismissed his thoughts, realizing how unhappy Father would be if he even gave the muggles a second glance.

1992:

He had called her a mudblood. YES. All thanks to his father who had started referring to her as one since summer. He had returned from first year, rather happy at standing second in class but to his dismay, his father had been very unhappy to hear that. "Second to a mudblood! How could you Draco? I expected much better from you."

"A what Father?" He had tried in all ways to impress his father, had even tried to impress the professors at school by reporting about the groundkeepers' dragon egg, but instead he had being given detention and a trip to the Forbidden Forest.

And so his father had taught him the word, no less than a blasphemy he had realized when he had seen her cry that first time he said it.

When the petrified cat had been spotted, he had started worrying. Seeing no better way than warning her directly, he had tried once more, in hopes that the continual usage of the M word would drive her out of the school towards safety. She was just a child, and in many ways more naïve than the rest of them. Most children were from wizarding families, they would have protection of family when the need arose. She would have nobody. But she didn't budge and landed petrified herself.

He had been so worried that he had sliced a cut into his arm twice just to be able to see her at the infirmary.

1993:

She had slapped him. First slapped and then tried to scare him with her wand. He could've stood his ground and challenge her to hex him, but he hadn't though he was still confident she would never hex a fellow student.

Damn his luck, he had avoided her the whole year; watched her only from a distance during classes and lunch breaks. Even tried to shove off the feeling he felt every time he saw her with Potter and Weasel. He had gone to the extent of getting himself injured by the bloody hippogriff in a moment of spontaneity to look as good as Potter. But all had been ruined and his embarrassment at his actions had kept him at a good distance from her for the remainder of the year. Why had he even agreed with Crabbe that it would be fun to watch the great animal be slaughtered was out of question now. He had done the mistake and now he had a faint hand print on his face to make him feel more miserable.

By the time he had got off the train at the end of the year, he was set in his decision to never look at the girl again, to never think of those wild curls or her chocolate eyes.

1994:

Summer had been awful. He had been so excited for the World cup, enjoyed every bit of it and had even succeeded in ignoring her though she was so close to him in the stands. He had made sure not to glance at her, except once… okay twice.

The events that followed shortly after were so unexpected that he just threw caution to the winds and went looking for her. He wanted to tell her that unless she changed her choice of company, trouble was bound to fall upon her. Stupid Gryffindor courage had made her stick to Potter, the one guy who would have death eaters swarming behind his back at all times, waiting for an opportunity. Being his friend would put her into the kind of limelight that would only end with her life. He wondered why she got herself into all the mess that Potter was in, would it be really worth dying fighting beside him? He envied, even craved, for such friendship.

He had found them near the forests, her between the boys. Of course there was no way she would listen to him, but he had to warn her. And so he had. He had thought it was a pretty smart thing to do at the time, but realized a few years later that it might have helped his image had he been honest and said what had been on his mind. Instead he had made it sound like he couldn't wait to see her dead.

Life was unfair. He cared, yet he couldn't show it. The inexplicable feelings of protection were starting to divert his attention from everything else. He couldn't concentrate on his classes anymore. The only outlet to his frustration was Potter. From the moment his name had come up as the fourth champion, Draco had made sure no one in the school accepted him as one. As if it wasn't enough of a trouble, she was seen hanging out more than required with him. He hadn't slept well the night before the Yule Ball, wondering who she would be coming with. He dreaded to think it would be Weasley, but somewhere he knew it wouldn't be Potter. When he had waited, at the entrance, and seen Weasley and Potter come with the twin Gryffindors, he had been relieved. He had walked into the hall on Pansy's persuasion but kept waiting for her to come, hoping it would be one of the Hufflepuffs that had asked her. She mustve obliged out of kindness, and it would be just a dance. Nothing could ever come out of it. But what if a Ravenclaw or another Gryffindor had asked her? There definitely would be sparks; she would never be able to resist a sharp mind. That would be something to worry about.

And then he had seen her. When she had walked into the hall, dressed up like that, everything else in the room had gone blurry. All he could see was her. There was a faint increase in his heartbeat, as he watched her smile. She looked beautiful; there was no other way to say it. There was no girl in the room, including the French girls, who could measure up to her. In that moment, he had wished to undo everything since first year and just walk to her and tell her how he felt. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath until he heard Pansy's shrieking voice, and his arm being tugged at by her. Irritated at being disturbed, he had turned to her but realized her eyes were directed at his object/person of interest too. Laughing that she had the same affect like him, he had turned to finally see who she had come with. It had felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach on seeing Krum hold her hand. Pansy had then pulled him onto the dance floor and to be polite he had stayed for two songs. He had taken a seat in one of the corners and watched her without disturbance for the rest of the evening. He had felt a pang every time Krum touched her or she laughed at something he said. Later, there had been an argument with Weasel and she had walked off. He had stealthily followed her and remained in the shadows while she had cried for a few hours. The dead weight in his heart that night had kept him so uneasy that he had grown a habit of following her every now and then at every chance to see if she was okay. She seemed fine, and stayed in the library most of the time. Researching, he knew, for Potter's sake. He saw that Potter would also come along to the library most times, though Weasley didn't. After observing them for a few weeks, he had discovered that their bond was more like that of siblings than anything else. He had spared Potter a little less hatred after that.

1995:

There was no more need to make excuses to follow her, or to watch her from a distance. They shared four classes together and as they had both been selected as Prefects, they would also meet in Prefect meetings held three times a week. Occasionally, if luck was on his side, he would be paired with her for school patrol. Not that they would talk, except regarding the students. He saw that she wouldn't treat him with hostility, just professionally. He appreciated that. Anything was better than hatred.

Later that year, he was selected by that pink toad of a woman, Umbridge, as a member of the Inquisitorial Squad. His father had pushed him into working with Umbridge, so that they would be clued in on Potter's moves. He hadn't enjoyed the revelation that half of the school, were working as what they called Dumbledore's Army. So he had agreed to help with the raiding of the activities and detaining the students involved. He was still unsure of how would he save her when the need arose. Umbridge would not spare her, and he was worried of her getting expelled from the school.

So when the time came, he tried to divert Umbridge's attention from her but the stupid Gryffindor bravery made her fake a story and lead Umbridge to the Forest. He knew there was no weapon and it was all her plan. He read the bluff the minute she said it, experienced in reading her expressions after years of watching her. He stayed silent, and let Umbridge go. He had no sympathy for the woman and still thought she deserved what she got.

Hermione. He repeated that name, over and over in his mind. He hated her friends, hated most of her actions. But he couldn't hate her. His father had been sent to Azkaban due to the happenings at the Ministry, and he knew she was involved. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to hate her or even dislike her. And so he focused all his hatred towards Potter. Little did he think, at that time, that maybe Potter was right? Maybe she was right. And maybe he was wrong.

1996:

He often regarded the year of 1996 as his life's worst year. Life had taken the most unexpected turn for him. He, who had been a prince in his house, was now a prisoner along with his parents. His father's one mistake had led their family to this. Their manor had been converted to a death eater hideout. He had been forcibly made to take the dark mark, seen as an honor among death eaters and as a curse in his eyes. His life had ended the day his arm had been branded, and since then he was only surviving; surviving the mental and physical torture from Voldemort, surviving the war, surviving the loss of the boy he could've been. To redeem the mistake his father had committed, he had been given the task of murder. Never before that day had he thought he would ever use an unforgivable on anyone, leave aside murder. And now he was to kill his headmaster, the only person who could lead the destruction of this self proclaimed evil lord.

It took him a while to digest that no one would help Voldemort change his mind and if Draco was to survive he would have to do the task given to him. So, killing the little bit of compassion left inside him, he gave in to his fate and set out to finish the headmaster. He directed the hatred he felt at his situation and the hatred that was starting to grow for Voldemort at Potter. He envied both Harry and Ron, for the support they had and for the help he could never gain. Atleast what they were doing was right in comparison to what he was being made to do. He didn't deserve any of this. The constant pressure and his family's imprisonment were unbearable to him and he had withdrawn from all his social activities. It had also started to take a toll on his health, and mentally he was finding himself lost and alone. The only consolation to all this was her. He would look at her, more often now. He wouldn't follow her anymore; she just seemed to be at the same places he would be going to most of the time with her golden boys.

He would look at her during breakfast, lunch and dinner. He didn't care who noticed, he didn't care what he ate. She seemed to shine bright in his dark life and he still couldn't explain why. Twice or thrice he came across her crying to herself in the library, and he sat, invisible to her, in a dark corner, and cried along with her. She was his light, and yet he couldn't hold on to her.

When the vanishing cabinet was repaired after a lot of tortured persuasion on him, he hadn't expected so many death eaters to come. He had been told only his aunt and father would make an appearance, which he should've known had been a lie. The minute he saw the death eaters, especially the werewolf Greyback, he had run. He didn't care anymore about who saw him, he had run to find her. He had wanted her safe above all. Upon entering the Gryffindor tower under the Polyjuice as some 5th year student, Draco had overheard Ron telling her to drink some Felix Felicis as Harry apparently had instructed. Grateful for the quick thinking on Potter's side, he knew the potion would keep her safe so he had rushed back out and gone to the Astronomy tower where the dark mark had been cast. He thought that no one would come looking for him here where the dark mark hovered and he would be safe until Dumbledore caught hold of the Death eaters. Maybe he would find the courage to confess to him then and ask for a second chance. But the minute he climbed the stairs to the Tower, he spotted Dumbledore himself standing there. He had disarmed him out of fear that Dumbledore would hex him first. The old headmaster had remained calmed and offered him a chance, a fresh start to life. But it had been hard to believe and before he could've given it a second thought, things had gone out of his control. Snape had reached the scene.

1997:

He wouldn't have known the impact his act had had on the school; he had fled straight after with Snape. But the fallen headmaster's eyes, his voice, his call to him for redemption would haunt him every night. He would wake up crying most of the time. And sometimes, to his horror, she would be in his place. She would be the one calling him to her side and he would kill her.

The task was over and his father had been spared, but the manor and the respect and command they had held was lost. As the war ensued, life got worse. He wouldn't have even considered going back to school, it would forever remain the place of his crime, but due to the ongoing conditions at home he had returned.

She hadn't come, nor had her friends. The scarce Gryffindor table was a painful reminder at every meal and so he had stopped eating in the Great hall. Tired of watching the Carrows torturing the students, he had taken to skipping classes and no one would question him anymore, as he was one of them now. He was broken, and now, with nowhere to go to, he felt empty, devoid of life and happiness.

He would walk aimlessly along the corridors, sometimes hoping to hear about her at least. He had considered once or twice to head to the Gryffindor common room and ask the Weasley girl outright, but restrained himself when he saw most Gryffindors including her and Longbottom nursing wounds inflicted on them by the death eaters.

He missed her. He missed seeing her. He felt barren, of all emotions and feelings. Like an aimless wanderer, without a cause, a lost soul. He just wanted to begin afresh. He wondered whether she would've helped him; watered his emptiness with her words, her support, and her friendship.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I just live in the world JKR created.**

1998:

At the time of the Easter holidays, Draco had considered going to their holiday home. He hated the Manor now and staying at Hogwarts was out of question. Every corner of the school was gloomy. He felt responsible for the whole thing. Death eaters were starting to camp at the school, the students were not safe anymore.

But his mother had insisted him to come, saying that it was so terrible at home that she would be happy if he was with her at least. So he had gone, only to find his aunt in main control of the manor while Voldemort went out looking for something whose knowledge no one had.

He felt like a guest in his own house, and spent most of his time holed up in his room. The more time he spent around these followers of Voldemort, the more he had learnt how dark his ways were. He hated it all; Hated the cursed mark on his arm, hated the gang of Death eaters and their lord, hated being counted as one of them, hated the manor which was once his home, hated the name Malfoy but most of all hated that he had brought this upon himself with his own hands. He could've chosen, chosen to be with the Light, chosen her, chosen to save Dumbledore that night. There was no forgiveness for him, no redemption. He knew he would live in this guilt forever, haunted by shadows of his past.

It was during one of those dark days at the Manor that the snatchers returned with some people they were sure were the Undesirables. He had been summoned downstairs to what had once been their living room to identify them. He had walked into the room angrily, to remind them that he was not to be ordered around and to leave him to himself.

He had walked in casually, least interested about who had been captured. He needed to talk to his aunt; there was no way he would let her order him around. Her back was to him and by her body language he could see she was rather excited about something. He tilted his head a little, to get a peek at the point of her interest. He couldn't see much except for the brown curls… Wait. It couldn't be. Heart hammering in his chest, he walked faster, hoping against everything that he was just hallucinating. And then, his aunt had moved aside and he saw her. A few bruises near her cheekbone and temple, hair tangled in a mess, a cut near her lower lip; Hermione. In his house.

The shock of seeing her there had nearly paralyzed him with fear. He had tried to keep a calm composure and show no effect of recognition, but his breathing had gone out of control. He knew the snatchers would notice, so he had pretended to cough a few times to get it out of his system. He couldn't face her out of fear that it would break him. Why was she here? Did she have a death wish? How had she been caught and that too all alone? He had so many questions to ask but his brain had already started looking for an escape plan. He looked around the room and spotted Ron Weasley and another boy who looked like a badly tampered version of Harry Potter. He turned back to look at her. He needed to see her at a closer level, see if she was fine though her face was pale and bruised. He hoped she wasn't hurt anywhere else. He moved closer, slowly not to catch anyone's attention. Their eyes had met, and she had looked at him pleadingly asking for help. His heart broke at that but before he could even give her a slight nod of the head, his aunt had spoken.

"Draco! Good that you are here. I want you to identify these people…especially this boy. And tell me if you know them at all. The snatchers think they have struck gold.. caught Potter. Confirm it!" She had cackled like a mad woman. He had had to move towards the other boy and get a closer look. The boy's face was oddly swollen, and something was really wrong with his eyes. But Draco had noticed the scar hidden under his hair. The boy was Harry Potter; the one person everyone in that room wanted dead was right there. Well, except for her and Weasley and now… him.

"Draco? Is it him? Is it who we think it is?" His aunt continued maniacally, her wand ready to cast an unforgivable.

He was scared and worried for her, for himself and even for Weasley and Potter now. They were the only hope to end this madness that had come to war. He didn't want Voldemort to know they were here, but how was he to stop them? "Draco? What's taking you so long?" His father asked this time.

His eyes briefly met Potter's and he hesitated, searching for a believable lie.

"No.. No.. It isn't them. You are mistaken." He had tried to sound casual, but his throat was dry.

His father persisted. "Draco, try again. Imagine how pleased our Lord would be if we gave him Potter… Draco please try." His father looked hopeful. But Draco couldn't let that happen.

"I… I can't be sure Father…" He lied. He glanced at her again, and saw her sag in relief.

But Bellatrix shrieked at the same moment, and he turned to look at her. She was holding a sword in her hand and her face was a mixture of fury and shock. "How could you have broken into my vault?" She touched the sword tip to her neck. The delicate skin looked like it would slice open, and he feared his aunt's temper as there was no guarantee that she would stall. He moved forward, towards her, hoping no one would notice.

"Let's call the Dark Lord; he shall decide what to do with these…" Greyback said but didn't complete his sentence. Draco looked in time to see the rest of the death eaters falling down, obviously stunned by his aunt. Everyone was looking at her in surprise.

"I need to find out how these prats are in possession of this Sword. If the Dark Lord finds out, things will get ugly, not only for me... but for the whole family too Lucius. So don't even try to inform him."

"Draco, get the boys downstairs and lock them up properly. I shall deal with this filthy mudblood first." She ordered.

Draco flinched at the word and the horror he felt at what would happen with her now. He looked at the boys, who started protesting together. Bellatrix cast ropes onto them to bind them tightly together, and he moved forwards unwillingly to take them down to the cellar. Both of them were trying with all their might to free themselves.

He thought of a way to free them; maybe that would work. But there was no way they could apparate out of the Manor. Maybe freeing them and helping them stun his family and run would be a better way out. But before he could act it out his father spoke. "I'll get Pettigrew to take them down Draco, you just go to your room. There is no need for you to stay here."

He gulped. Had his father read his mind? He looked at his old classmates, then at her, feeling helpless and guilty, and then walked out of the room.

He never went to his room and had stayed hidden in the adjacent corridor; waiting for a chance to save her. The screams had started soon after and he had rushed into the room.

She was on the floor, writhing in pain while his aunt held her wand over her, enjoying the effect of the Cruciatus on her victim. He saw the red cuts on her forearm, which looked freshly etched, and a knife lying nearby. He clenched his wand tighter in his hand, trying not to lose his composure. Bellatrix would pay for this. He quickly scanned the room and his eye caught the sword lying nearby. He moved towards it, in hopes of distracting his aunt, and picked it up.

His aunt noticed, and shouted, "Move away from the sword boy!"

"I will if you hear me out, and agree to my terms." He held the sword in one hand and his wand tightly in another, ready to hex his aunt in case she tried to curse him.

"What are these games now? Lucius, have you talked the boy into this mischief?" She glared at his parents.

His parents were looking at him, bewildered, and he noticed Hermione was curled up on the floor and breathing slowly, trying to overcome the after affects of Crucio. It was working, Bellatrix was distracted and if he could pull this off a little longer, it would buy Hermione time to gain some strength and plan a move.

"No one needs to manipulate me, I can think for my own you know." He moved farther from Hermione, so that Bellatrix would be more distracted.

"The Dark Lord will not spare you for this nuisance Draco. Give it back to me." His aunt was starting to move towards him slowly.

"Threats and Unforgivable curses, one would think I would fear them after everything I have gone through. You are mistaken dear Auntie, I don't care much for your threats or unforgivables. There's nothing I cannot tolerate anymore, unless you would use the killing curse on me and finish this meaningless existence once and for all. I am sick of being used as a pawn in this war and I would rather leave than stay." He was now at the farthest corner of the room, and she had followed him slowly, at a distance.

He stole a glance at her, and noticed she was looking around for her wand, which was lying a good distance away. Bellatrix was furious now, "How dare you talk like this! Narcissa, did you just hear your son? I wouldn't spare anyone who talked like this. He would be as good as dead if it weren't for you." She turned back to him, "Give me the sword boy! I won't have any more of this nonsense." She yelled again.

Draco tried to maintain his voice even though inside his heart was hammering against his chest. "No, you will fulfill my conditions first."

He wasn't even sure what his conditions were. Was it advisable to ask for the release of the trio or should he make up something else? If he was to ask for their release and there was a 1% chance Bellatrix would agree, she wouldn't spare him later on. He would be Crucio-ed n number of times to find out what made him ask for their freedom.

So he decided it would be wiser if he asked for something that would seem expected coming from him. But before he could say anything, Bellatrix noticed Hermione sitting up.

He would have to act quicker; he raced to her side and pulled her up. Thinking of a plan quickly, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her infront of him, wand on her neck. He hid his face behind her hair and whispered, "Stay calm Hermione, I'm going to get you out of here. You are safe now. Just play along." He inhaled deeply, the smell that he had longed for so long.

"Expelliarmus!" He took advantage of her distraction to disarm Bellatrix and caught her wand. "You won't have the girl or the sword back if you continue with your arrogance Bellatrix. This is MY home, and I won't take orders from you lot anymore." He started moving, with her held tightly against him.

"Take my wand, if I summon yours, they will notice." He whispered urgently, and thrust his wand in her hand.

She looked at him, wide eyed and shocked. But there was no time to ask anything, so she just took his wand. "Don't use the wand until your friends are freed. You can't apparate out, so I'll have to think of another way."

They were nearly out in the doorway, when an idea struck him.

"Dobby!" He muttered, hoping the elf would appear, owing to the old link he had.

Silence. "Dobby!" He tried again. His aunt was talking to his father and mother, persuading them to talk to him, he hoped against everything that the elf would appear.

The elf appeared in the shadows. "M-m-m-master DRACO!" Dobby's eyes were wide with surprise.

"Dobby! Quick! Hide yourself somewhere." Draco whispered fiercely and she watched as the elf disappeared behind a huge vase close to them.

"Now listen carefully. I want you to go down to the cellar. Harry Potter and his friend Weasley are locked in there. Get them out. Then come back here, tell Potter to stun me or disarm me and take Granger, then you disapparate the three of them out of here. This should be done as soon as possible Dobby. I cannot carry this act for long."

"H-h-harry Potter is here Master? In the Manor?" Dobby was shaking and his eyes were wide and watery.

"Dobby listen, there is no time. Follow my ord.. I mean think of it as a request Dobby. Please." Draco put a hand on his shoulder and pleaded. Dobby bowed and disappeared.

Bellatrix appeared at the same moment, and tried to pull Hermione out of his arms. He held on tightly and thrust her own wand in her face and said, "I won't hesistate to Crucio you if you even try another move."

She raised her hands and spoke, "You fool! If I were to summon the Master now, you would be dead before I could say mudblood. I am only obliging because we are a family."

"You are mistaken to think I would ever consider you family after what happened at Hogwarts."He spat out.

"Oooooh! Draco darling feels betrayed! Is that it? You honestly didn't think we would send only one or two people into Hogwarts did you? You were our only chance and we would never risk it. What happened at Hogwarts is the only reason you and your family is alive. Don't forget that. Now hand me the girl and my wand." Bellatrix was getting angrier by the minute. She took out a small knife from her pocket and pointed it at them.

He could feel her shallow breaths and slight shaking of her body. She was scared, he spoke into her hair again, "Don't worry Granger. It's going to be okay."

As soon as he said that, Potter and Weasley had rushed into the hall. Everything happened in a blur then. Draco looked at his parents, and caught their eye signaling them to hide. They didn't question him, and hid themselves. To his horror, Peter Pettigrew came in at the same time and he had no option but to disarm him too. He saw Bellatrix shrieking at Pettigrew to catch the boys but it was too late, Weasley had already picked up his wand. Thankfully, Bellatrix and Pettigrew hadn't seen who had disarmed him. Weasley stunned Pettigrew from his wand, and at the same moment the big chandelier fell off the room onto Bellatrix. Next, Weasley was pulling her out of his arms while Harry snatched the wand he was holding and pushed him to the floor.

Then together the three of them, rushed to hold Dobby's hand who had just appeared. He was looking at her, and she too had turned around to look at him, their eyes had met and then she was gone, disapparated.

The relief he had felt that she and her friends had escaped, was so immense that he had felt nothing when Voldemort had punished him with the Cruciatus. He could still smell her on his shirt and it was the only good thing in the hell hole. He didn't know when he would see her next, or would he ever see her at all. But the memory of her had made him survive the next few weeks.

The next time he saw her was at Hogwarts, during the War, fighting against the Death Eaters. He had tried to keep up with her, stunned a few death eaters too, and stayed close by in case she needed him but he had soon been distracted by other death eaters who had found him lurking around, and so he had run around to avoid meeting them. He had lost her after that, and couldn't find her for a while. It was then that he had seen her go towards the Room of Requirement with the boys, and he had stood at a distance but Crabbe had insisted on following them and had rushed in behind them; so he had no option but to go in.

As luck would have it, Crabbe had started the awful fire and perished in it himself. Draco had tried his best to save him but it was useless. Thankfully, they had managed to save him and Goyle and he had appreciated that.

There had been no chance to say thank you, or to even talk to her. He had followed her around a while after that, intent on not losing sight of her. If there was anyone in sight, who could have attacked her, or even any other student supporting Potter, he had stunned or disarmed them. Without realizing, he had moved sides. His heart was on Potter's side, and he wanted Voldemort's end as much as the rest of them now.

After about an hour, he had lost her again, and was looking about when he had been pulled aside, and he had heard her voice as she hexed another death eater.

They had looked at each other, both standing in the middle of a rubble of chaos, in the middle of a war, and his world had stopped. She was holding one of his hands still, and he looked down at it before looking back up at her again.

"What are you doing? If anyone realizes what you have done, they will kill you straight away Draco!" She hadn't released his hand. He smiled at her then, and cupped her face in his hand. "I like how my name sounds from your mouth."

And that was it. They had been surrounded by more death eaters and they had turned to fight them, back to back.

There had been too many death eaters, and she couldn't find Harry or Ron or anyone else from the Order to help them. She saw Fred fall on one side of the hall, and she was worried about him but there was no time. There were so many death eaters. She kept hexing continuously, without a pause, and could hear him do the same.

Draco kept an eye out at the death eaters who kept approaching Hermione. He knew she was a bright witch and could handle them, but he couldn't stop worrying. And there were too many death eaters coming at his end too. And then he saw Greyback. The ugly half human ran towards her, and he turned her around to fight him. He pushed her behind him and moved backwards towards a wall.

"You Traitor!" Fenrir bellowed and pounced towards him, he tried stunning him but he blocked it. He pushed Hermione more into the wall as he covered her from the werewolf, and shot another hex at him. This time, Greyback fell onto the floor and Draco turned to look at her. They exchanged one smile, before he felt a sharp metal being thrust into him and he fell down, his eyes widening in horror as he watched her reflect the shock he felt. He saw her looking up towards someone, and shouting a curse at them, but it was too late, he could feel the blood flow down his robes and he couldn't breathe properly. "Draco! Oh God! It was Greyback. He found a knife and he…" She held his head as he lay on the floor. "I can cure this, you are going to be okay. OK?" She looked worried, and he thought he saw tears falling down her face.

"Where is my bag? Accio bag! Accio Dittany! HARRYY! RON! Someone please help." She screamed. But he knew it was useless. His vision was already hazy and he knew he didn't have much time. He thought this was the perfect way for him to die; he touched her cheek, and she looked back at him.

"Hermione…" he said and let out his last breath as she sat weeping, surrounded in a pool of his blood.


End file.
